Douglas M Vose

Chief Warrant Officer 2 Douglas M. Vose, III, died from wounds received while conducting combat operations in the Kabul Province of Afghanistan on July 29 2009 while serving as the Assistant Detachment Commander of Special Forces Operational Detachment Alpha – 0114, Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 10th Special Forces Group (Airborne), in Stuttgart, Germany.

 

Vose, 38, was killed by intense direct small arms fire while deployed to Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom as a member of the International Security Assistance Forces (ISAF) – Afghanistan.

 

Vose, born in Roseburg, Oregon, enlisted in August 1988 as a 19D, Cavalry Scout. He later attended the SF Qualification Course, graduating in 1999 as an 18E, Communications NCO and was assigned to 3rd BN, 10th SFG(A). He was reassigned to 1st BN in March 2002 and in 2006, he completed the Warrant Officer Basic Course, returning to 1st BN in Germany.

 

Vose’s military education includes the Warrior Leader Course, Basic Non-Commissioned Officer Course, Advanced Non-Commissioned Officer Course, SF Communications Sergeant Course, SF Operations and Intelligence Course, WOBC Course, SF WOCBC, Basic Airborne Course, Military Free Fall Parachutist Course, and MFF Jumpmaster Parachutist Course.

 

His awards include the Bronze Star Medal with “V” device and two oak leaf clusters in lieu of third award, the Purple Heart, the Defense Meritorious Service Medal, Meritorious Service Medal, the Army Commendation Medal, the Army Achievement Medal, the Army Good Conduct Medal, and the Humanitarian Service Medal.

 

His decorations include the National Defense Service Medal, South West Asia Service Medal, Kosovo Campaign Medal, Afghanistan Campaign Medal, Iraqi Campaign Medal, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, Armed Forces Service Medal, Non-Commissioned Officers Professional Development Ribbon, Army Service Ribbon, Overseas Ribbon, NATO Medal, Kuwait Liberation Medal (Saudi Arabia), and the Kuwait Liberation Medal (Kuwait).

Vose also earned the Airborne Badge, Combat Infantryman’s Badge, Parachutist Badge, Military Free Fall Jumpmaster Badge, and the Special Forces Tab.

 

Vose is survived by his wife Nicole and sons, Aidan and Connor, who reside in Stuttgart, Germany. He is also survived by his daughters, Sharon and Noel, who reside in Germany; as well as his mother Paulette, sister Kellie and brother Jason of Oceanside, Calif.

 

Born: Sep 30, 1970 in Roseburg, Oregon

Died: Jul 29, 2009 in Kabul Province , Afghanistan

About: 1st Battalion, 10th Special Forces Group (Airborne) based in Stuttgart, Germany

Obituary

DOUGLAS M. VOSE III

Eulogy by MAJ Jason Vose

Fear WAS NOT in Doug’s DNA. When finally able to speak with someone from his unit, I learned that Doug’s commander had accredited him with saving several soldiers by sacrificing his own life to lead from the front and motivate his team which had been pinned down by intense fire. Doug rushed to the lead and provided suppression and initiated his team’s movement to a higher more tactical position to ensure they were on stronger ground with the advantage of elevation before enemy reinforcements could arrive to assault through the small team and kill everyone. Caught in an ambush, Doug followed the standard operating procedure, and while the natural tendency would be to freeze, stay down low and try to wait things out, Doug initiated the difficult courageous step, exposing himself to lay down fire and direct his team to a better position. Much of the reason Doug was such a cool operator is because he truly was not afraid of those things which cause most people severe anxiety and require extreme courage to overcome. Doug quite frankly was just not afraid. Death was not something Doug took time to get worried about. He sincerely knew that when his time came, it came and there was no reason to get worked up about the inevitable which awaits us all. This is the way Doug approached everything in life. You would have thought that Doug created the phrase, “carpe diem”. He seized every day and ALWAYS lived for the moment.

Often times when reflecting upon a person’s life at their final gathering, writers of a eulogy will tend to embellish or bend reality to some degree, focus on the good of ones life in an attempt to honor a fallen loved one and see them off in their best light. I WILL DO NO SUCH THING HERE. Brother, you selected me to write this eulogy in the last documents you filed with the department of the Army prior to this tour…and now I get the final word in! Unfortunately, due to the mixed company and young age of those present today, I have been forced to extract many of the finer expletive’s that accompanied this writing. Let’s ensure one thing is set straight on the record. Douglas Melville Vose the III was not always the fine gentlemen, kind, loving, caring person we all remember. September 30th, 1970 marked the day Mr and Mrs. Douglas and Paulette Vose Jr set upon a path laden with frustration, daily fears and a child rearing saga akin to forging steel from oatmeal…while simultaneously forging oatmeal from steel. Like all Voses, Doug was filled with an ample dose of Irish Blood from our father’s side of the family (the Jameson trait). While we were raised in a truly close family exceedingly overflowing with love, all three of us children (my sister Kellie, Doug and I) had our moments with the Jameson temper and our German Dutch stubbornness. However, Brother Doug seemed to take it to the limit and test my father’s patience routinely. At the youngest age, Doug enjoyed debating issues and attempting to outwit our father simply because he enjoyed the challenge or desired to test my fathers wrath; which he received on many occasion.

Doug was a complex, complicated person. Few things could be considered “easy” when it came to Doug. If there was an odd ball in the tight nit “Vose” clan, Doug was definitely it…but we accepted him… and in an attempt to realize conformity among our ranks, he changed us and gave the family so much of our character. Each and every one of us has been provided with so much of Doug because of who he was; unique, so special, different, and profoundly charismatic.

For me he was exactly what a big brother should be. Despite our closeness and much time spent fighting, I always looked up to him…wanted to please him…be like him..emulate him…but I rarely achieved that mark. The eternal critic made no concession for anything but perfection.

I would venture to say I probably knew Doug and understood him as well as anyone possibly could. For most of our young life, he was my rack mate through a number of bunk bed models we tore up. We shared a room through most of our upbringing and despite our regular routine of fighting (often daily) we engaged in a normal routine of fellowship, and what we would look back on now and title as our psycho-therapy sessions. At the youngest ages I could remember, lights out meant chat time. Just as I would start to drift to sleep Doug would start talking….and believe me, DOUG COULD TALK. Most folks around the valley remember my father’s gift for gab. What most people may not know is despite Doug’s typically quiet demeanor, he also received the talking gene in the family from our father. And if you were fortunate enough to have Doug open up to you, then you realize just how well he inherited from my father the capability to carry on a ONE way conversation. And so often, despite spending a day wearing holes in my mothers living room carpet from hour long bouts of mixed martial art fights, we would secure the evening in friendly discussion that may last for hours…usually with me falling asleep to Doug’s endless babbling. And the talks continued through high school and beyond. What started as discussions in the early years regarding our endless escapades in our father led world of kid sports, our mountain adventures, perceptions of disparity in our treatment and punishments from dad, eventually escalated through the high school years to women, our educators, music, clothes, sports and our future, and then later in life into our professional careers which closely mirrored one another’s. My parents spent the majority of their income traveling the state and often times the country supporting our love for sports. Doug and I gravitated toward combatant athletics, and our gladiator bouts in the back yard and the living room floor made us fierce competitors. We were wrestling partners, sparring partners in boxing, and when tempers flared, we became UFC brawling enemies constantly testing one another and pushing each other to the limit. Our love-hate relationship developed us into eternal partners and despite a healthy dose of animosity many witnessed, when the time came to get down to business, we were ALWAYS in one another’s corner. As many have heard the phrase, “I can mess with my brother, but you better not touch him or you will be dealing with both of us” fit us so well. Doug was a ferocious golden gloves boxer with a lightning fast jab and a deadly right cross. He typically advanced further than I in tournaments and I looked forward to cheering on my favorite fighter as he punished many of the greatest young boxers in the state. My gift was for wrestling. Even if Doug was not able to qualify for some of the championship tournaments, he never missed a chance to support me and traveled with my father and I often halfway across the country just to be by my side, motivate me, warm me up and give me a boost of confidence. A typical day in our young life meant waking up at 0530 in Diablo deep in the Cascade Mountain Range, catching the peanut bus by 0615, traveling from Diablo to Newhalem, switching over to the large bus at the compound, riding to school, meeting afterward and jogging the railroad tracks a mile with a couple other team mates to the abandoned old concrete elementary school. We would wrap each others hands and stand by for training from Wayne White or Sten Berg. Often times the building would be so cold we could watch our breath escape in puffs of smoke..that is until Sten would fire up the old kerosene jet burner. I’m not sure which was better for our lungs..sucking in the freezing air or breathing the carbon laden burnt fumes of kerosene that saturated every piece of workout clothes we owned. After an intense workout, we would jog back to the high school, catch the second half of wrestling practice, jump on the activity bus and begin the long journey back to Diablo in time to eat dinner, do some homework and hit the rack. We used to joke during the winters that we rarely saw home during daylight hours.

Over the course of our life, we shared many a trainer, but our chief sensei was our loving, yet brutal, semi sadistic, baptized by the old Marine Corps, father. During weekends, if we weren’t at some kind of tournament, Dad would have us in training in the swimming pool or putting our “road work”in jogging miles around Diablo camp or splitting and stacking chords of wood to keep us stocked a decade ahead. Beyond many of the technical skills he provided in the combatant arts, we learned the most important lessons to prepare us for life; overcoming perceived physical limitations and boundaries, pushing well beyond what we thought we were capable of, never giving up, controlling anxiety in a fight, maintaining focus in loss, learning from mistakes and improving and maintaining a humble, composed professional attitude during success. Doug was forged in adversity, harsh weather, daily challenges and owed his ability to effectively cope with hardship and austere environments from our immersion in a challenging surrounding embraced and provided by our father. Running was often done in a freezing blizzard, sometimes slush and snow, or in drenching rain just above freezing temperatures. As everyone knows, Doug had little body fat to spare and this was often his toughest enemy. However, this also provided a number of survival bonding experiences between he and my father and they shared a couple very intense near death experiences Elk Hunting with Melvin Hall that found them trapped miles in the back country in several feet of snow, digging survival shelters and keeping each other alive with body heat, spooning and waiting out the elements. My father was such a part of all our raising and he taught us everything we needed to know in life through sports, hunting and the wilderness.

We grew up in a time so different from today. If we were lucky, we had enough reception for maybe a few T.V. stations. If you consider “pong” a challenging video game…then sure, we had video GAME. Doug’s youngest years were spent imitating Eric Estrada playing “Chips” by bicycle with the Newhalem gang, hiking the surrounding trail networks and camp grounds, involved with the cub scouts, swimming at the “ag pond” and enjoying the great outdoors. Competition, adversity and environment hardened us mentally and physically. Football games in Newhalem became our religion and it was not uncommon to find the Hafercamp brothers, the Voses, the Beaziezo boys, The Morleys, the Rigbys, the Irons clan and Erik Krieg tearing up the ad hoc Newhalem football stadium….we kept poor Myra Haferkamp, our local nurse, occupied spending ample time providing stitches and applying ice and bandages to our wounds. Bill Anderson and Ron Rood, may still believe to this day that they created the state championship teams of 84 and 85. The truth is, those championships and the Beaziezo arm were created and secured in Newhalem in the 70’s over the course of 8 hour football games played through the summer vacations, in 2 feet of snow in the winter and any chance we had after school to consolidate the kids of the upper Skagit on the field and get down to business.

Our small upper Skagit community always strived to create many opportunities for it’s youth. One year, Myra Haferkamp started a 4-H club. I think dad was feeling a little left out because when the time came to sign up for the different classes, Kellie, Doug and I noticed we were already signed up for a course called “Nature Survival” with an interesting professor that went by the name of….. Mr Douglas Vose. And not a single kid signed up for it…minus the voluntold Vose kids…well, and poor Matt Irons, but I think he just initialed the wrong line on the syllabus selection sheet on accident. And so we set off on a journey during our afternoons spent learning about survival kits, building fires, tying knots, backpacking, living off the land, identifying edible foods in the wilderness, snaring small game, and creating instruments from nature to fish with. Our final exercise was a three day pack over Sauk Mountain and breaking brush off the trail to a remote location to practice our recently learned skills. In retrospect, I think Dad did this more for Doug than anything. This really identified so much of what Doug truly enjoyed; a challenge pitting him against nature and surviving with no help from anyone. This was Doug’s young life; hunting, fishing, hiking, sports, school, fighting with his little brother and talking…and a million golden memories created throughout it all.

Some of our fondest memories with Doug were just of us three kids growing up in the serenity of the upper North Cascades: sharing lazy summer days fishing on the docks, riding bikes through the mountain trails, observing the abundance of wildlife and enjoying the amazing beauty that surrounded us often with just each other and creating a bond only those that have shared a similar upbringing can understand. With the rotation of families in and out of the upper camps, the number of kids available to associate with ranged from as many as 20 or so of varying ages, to as little as a few other kids in the Diablo camp. During summer’s, granted, often by default, and to my delight, Doug would have to look at me and realize, I was the only friend available and we would whisk away on a day of adventure in the mountains. And so, whether by design from my father in the choosing of such a re-mote location to raise our family or by fate, the two of us began to build a bond as solid as oak. On a fair weather summer day it wasn’t uncommon for us to wake at an early hour, grab a sack full of left over chicken my mother salvaged from the cook house, a stretch of my father’s rope and take off to the serenity of the mountains that surrounded our camp and led into the great expanse of the never ending Cascade Mountain Range. Most of the trails were steep, rugged and traveled an aggressive route quickly ascending to high elevation. We would explore old mining tunnels, usually branch off the trails early on and traverse steep creeks and waterfalls attempting to find lost lakes and paradise lost. Physical conditioning came naturally as it wasn’t uncommon to spend 12 hours of the long summer days hiking and climbing…and Doug loved to climb. As usual, fear of heights didn’t exist, and with no climbing gear, Doug would scale walls at the age of 12 that would impress any skilled climber. And the rope?, well that was for little brother here as he would coax me into, or rather let me know I would be left behind if I didn’t follow… and a sobbing frightened mess, I would eventually cave in, and he would spend typically a good half hour pulling me up and talking me through the objective, motivating me to scale a cliff that took him 2 minutes to free climb. At the end, I would always owe Doug for helping to develop my confidence and get me through the impossible challenges faced on our Cascade Mountain Range adventures. Our supervision parameters were to be back prior to dusk…but Doug would always push the envelope. Our parents really didn’t realize the extent of the adventures Doug would lead us on…not until one of our latter hikes when Doug pushed the envelope too far, dusk turned to dark during one of our frantic sprints at the closing of the trail, and Diablo Camp activated the infamous siren and initiated a search and rescue. Mom usually believed we were just on the hills on the perimeter of the camp, but it was not uncommon for us to be 10 to 15 miles off the trail breaking brush up Stetattle Creek or Sour Dough Mountain. We never traveled with a watch or compass. As kids, we learned to estimate from the location of the sun and read the terrain and our surroundings.

My father was an amazing man and he cultivated a very personal and special relationship with each of his children. As an avid hunter, trapper and outdoorsmen, the most special times spent with our father was on an adventurous hunt. Each child shared a particular season annually with ample one on one time spent with Dad. Kellie was the deer hunter, I the bear, and Doug, as the eldest son, chose the most challenging and rigorous, the Elk Hunt. His many adventures with my father scouting during the pre-season and hunting elk is something that developed much of Doug’s character.

Having two hard working parents required baby sitters… no one volunteered to watch the Vose boys. Due to necessity, my sister was forced to become a hard, physically combative young woman…and on more than one occasion stepped between her brothers and knocked the heck out of both of us. Many a story can be told of the baby sitters that were sent home in tears trying to handle Doug and I. So again, for the record, on behalf of both Doug and I, we sincerely apologize for the scarring we caused to the poor young ladies that stepped into and endured the combat zone in the Vose house. Fortunately, my parents were finally able to secure the assistance from Tammy and Debbie Reese. Like most of the poor young ladies that took on the meager pay for daunting assignment, they possessed a genuinely kind nature which served as a poor tool in times when the Vose brothers got out of hand…but what they did have was immediate access to a mother that made the hardest Marine Corps drill instructor pale in comparison. The mere mention of Margerete Reese caused Doug and I to snap to attention…but if we stepped over the line, we knew hell was on its way and we paid dearly. Wherever you are Margerete, On behalf of Doug and I, thank you for your assistance and for helping to shape our character during our parent’s absence. And to Janet Aldridge, our next door neighbor for several years, we apologize for the scarring. My mother will never forget the day she received the call at the cookhouse, “Polly, the boys are running around the house fighting in their underwear…I think Kellie locked them out again!”

For my sister, her closeness with Doug was something that can not be expressed or understood by words. One event in our life that captured the essence of who Doug was, is recalling his actions during our solo trip to visit our grandparents and family in Florida. After a summer spent working in my mother’s café, we saved enough money for a memorable vacation. Upon our flight home, we had a 30 minute layover in Tampa. 15 minutes into the layover, Doug jumped out of his seat and yelled, “We forgot to get a souvenir for mom!”. Within a few minutes at his own risk of missing the flight, he sprinted down the airport and seconds before the airplane door closed, he made it back with a beautiful trinket sail boat; thinking of others always, at his own risk, accomplishing the impossible…THAT WAS DOUG’s LIFE!.

Thankfully, very early on in our life, My father created a special relationship with an angel on earth and ensured Kellie, Doug and I received a healthy dose of the word of God from our most compassionate, knowledgeable and caring teacher, Shirley Shepherd. Shirley, you were such an impact to Doug’s life and making him the amazing man he was.

Doug was a prodigy in every sense of the word. From his earliest days in elementary school, his educators wanted to move him ahead in school as he was too advanced for his year group and peers. And so, in his first formal year of schooling, he was immediately advanced a grade in order to come close to his aptitude. What they didn’t understand is that with this unique young pupil with remarkably advanced cognitive ability, also came the remarkably advanced decision making skill to apply himself only where he felt was necessary or in those areas that kept his interest. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Doug could have achieved exemplary marks throughout high school or even crushed nuclear physics…Unbeknown to anyone, Doug attained 1st chair in band for two years without learning to read music. He couldn’t tell you what a single note on a bar graph meant…and through every piece of music and challenge Mr. Rantschler provided –(“raiders of the lost ark”, Carly Simon pieces, and selected solos), Doug memorized each piece by ear, synthesized the notes in his head and converted them to beautiful sounds of music from his baritone. Doug’s selective dedication infuriated my father. In one argument regarding Doug’s report card and lack luster performance, Doug replied with an enraged “You want “A’s, I’ll give you A’s!” and promptly reported the following semester with straight A’s…before returning to his usual performance of just getting by with the required marks to pass. Doug could do anything, however, quite frankly, mundane school work BORED Doug to death, failed to challenge him and therefore, he spent his time and effort in other areas of interest until he could escape the bonds of adolescence, his home, his family (all things he felt were restraining him) and move onto a life filled with adventure, challenge and adrenalin in the armed services.

While My sister and I reflect probably more our father in our character, Doug was truly a product of an intense bond with our mother. In the end, Doug was remembered most by those that truly had the privilege of knowing him as a sincerely compassionate, giving and caring man. He was the type of man everyone wanted as a close personal friend and extremely cherished if given that honor. In the ying and the yang that balanced us from our parents, Doug embraced the warmth of our mother and the character of not wanting to hurt anyone or anything. Truly, at first glance, one may think of this as a dichotomy of the path he chose, but aggression was not in Doug’s nature, and it was only be-fitting that he eventually sought the distinct compassionate professionalism found in the Army’s elite Green Beret Ranks.

Upon graduation from high school, Doug chose a path in the Army. After two generations of the Marine Corps, yes, he defied my father and went Army. Actually, my father never pushed the service on any of us. His pride in the mission and honor to serve our country saturated all of us kids and Dad wanted Doug to choose whatever path would make him happiest in life. The Army’s promise for assignment to Germany was something Doug could not resist. And so after his last summer at home, he entered basic training in August of 1988 and set out on a path of challenge, adventure, adrenalin and service to country to a degree few could comprehend. Doug’s accolades in the Army could write several novels and I would love to go on forever discussing them all. He truly loved his life and became so happy to find something he could completely embrace and dedicate his full capability toward. In days…yes days, Doug could communicate speaking German well. And over the course of over 20 years spent mostly in Germany, he became as much a citizen of Germany as he was of the United States. He so much loved the diversity and culture of Eastern Europe. Doug was a part of the old days spent guarding West Germany on the Berlin wall. As a superb linguist and interpreter, he was chosen as the primary interpreter during many high level peace talks involving the United States and the Army and served as a crucial part to the re-unification of Germany. Due to his remarkable ability to speak German he could effectively blend in with the locals and with his European dress, mannerism and language skills accepting multiple dialects, he could travel anywhere and have anyone believe he was native to the country. His service during this fragile time won him distinct honor and notoriety throughout the European commands. At a very early age his Army commendation and achievement ribbons carried more additional awarding for superior performance than anyone near his rank. It was not uncommon for Doug to pick up crazy temporary ad hoc missions from high level brass due to his ability to work with the locals and provide exceptional results. I remember he served as a high ranking Generals driver for a period of time…which no doubt I’m sure he was fired from if he ever drove the way all of us remember…Doug absolutely loved speed and sometimes I questioned whether the only reason he stayed in Germany was because without the Autobon he would never be able to retain a license. But Doug could drive like Mario Andretti and for some of us, driving at 150 mph with Doug actually felt safe. But not most…and anyone that spent anytime traveling with Doug has a story or two they will never forget!

Doug’s military career spanned several dangerous tours and he was always the first to move himself into position for the fight, join the right unit that would get him there and volunteer to stay in country beyond the unit’s deployment or rotate back as soon as he could. Doug Served in Desert Storm and Desert Shield in Kuwait and Iraq during the Gulf War and the liberation of Kuwait. He served multiple tours in Bosnia Herzegovina, and Kosovo, totaling four separate rotations to the Balkans. As part of several missions in Special Forces, he conducted an unknown number of missions into multiple country’s in Africa working discretely in highly dangerous operations conducting the Foreign Internal Defense mission to combat terrorism in the restless sub Saharan states. Doug deployed to Iraq during intense fighting in Operation Iraqi Freedom III in 04 and 05 and was conducting his second deployment to Afghanistan.

From the beginning, Doug served a difficult mission operating as a forward cavalry scout conducting reconnaissance missions from a Bradley fighting vehicle in advance of regular Army units. After almost 10 years challenging himself in the toughest assignments offered in the conventional army Doug actually started to become bored and felt stagnant. Doug needed more challenge and looked to the elite Special Forces or better known in the Army as the Green Berets for that challenge. It didn’t take long before Doug realized he really fit in well in the Special Forces community and truly enjoyed the work. Assigned to the 18E occupational specialty, Doug became a communications expert and after successfully completing the grueling selection and qualification course that several thousand highly screened soldiers attempt but few pass, he stepped into an intense process to become qualified as a team communication specialist. Doug McGiver finally found a trade evolving as fast as he could learn it and remained challenged and motivated to learn from that point on. We often traveled to spend time with each other as our careers and proximity permitted. I spent three vacations to Germany and he visited me on numerous occasions in the states or while I was on assignment in Europe. During one trip while he was stationed in Ft Bragg, we traveled from Camp Lejeune, N.C to Florida to visit our parents. He was stressed the entire time as he met a sincere challenge with Morse Code during his advanced communications training…and while I drove, he would have his head set on tapping and memorizing code…and late at night when we switched so I could sleep a little...Doug rambled on and kept me up TALK, TALK, TALKING as always. From learning wave propagation to memorizing construction of field expedient antenna’s to mastering satellite communications and a plethora of digital devices and radio’s, Doug became a razor sharp tool and was the gift of the comm Gods to every team assigned. Doug has continued to leave his indelible mark on all those he comes in contact with. His Fearless nature and ability to over ride discomfort and pain have become legendary. During dive school, he refused to surface during an exercise testing your ability to work through a problem without air. Designed to teach calmness and push a diver to his limits under duress, Doug refused to surface and take air; eventually passing out and requiring resuscitation. That was Doug. He had the strength to overcome any physical pain beyond what our limitations permit.

Its not surprising that Doug eventually gravitated toward assignment to a HALO and direct action team and excelled in the risky work involving intense precision shooting skills and inserting for missions by jumping from aircraft as high as 25,000 feet and free falling to insertion point or opening the sport parachute early and navigating several miles to a target. But what was even more appropriate to moving up to this elite work, again, whether by choice or probably more accurately, Gods will, is the fitting disposition and nature of Doug’s character that so perfectly matched the ethos, the essence and even the motto of the Green Berets… de oppresso liber…liberate the oppressed. The Green Berets take on many a number of missions, but in the special forces community, their forte is conducting what is known as the FID mission; foreign internal defense as part of the larger theater security cooperation taken on by our embassies, our country teams working abroad to ensure security through cooperation with foreign nations. At the user level, that means developing oppressed nation militaries and people to protect their own borders. They stand up for the weak and protect and train those that don’t have the ability to stand up for them self. It is a selfless mission and requires a compassionate, professional soldier that truly wants to help others and make a difference; a focus on extending a helping hand and only resorting to death and destruction in defense or to protect the indigenous forces they are working with… It was exactly fitting for Doug; the epitome of the silent professional.

Upon receiving the news of Doug’s death, when working through several of the issues with Doug’s Casualty Affairs Officer in Germany (who was also a close friend from Doug’s team), he was feverishly tearing Doug’s office and home apart searching for Doug’s will. I believe his unit was very concerned for everyone that this would cause a major concern. We quickly put there fears to rest when we told them “don’t worry, we know where Doug’s wealth and savings for his 20 year career in the Army went and there isn’t a need to try to find where the missing treasure may have been stowed away”. Doug could only save money 1 way…by being deployed for months on end in service of his country and doing his life’s work in the army and Special Forces. And when he returned to a sizable chunk of money stacked up from imminent danger pay, tax free exclusion zone and hazardous duty…He would take his family and show them an amazing vacation. Whether skiing the Swiss Alps, touring every country in Europe or taking his girls horse back riding on the beaches of Spain, Doug always had an amazing adventure planned out and lived every second to the fullest! I remember speaking with one of Doug’s many buddies one day and he told me a story of a time when he came home on a Saturday night and Doug was by himself watching T.V on the couch. He asked Doug why he wasn’t out or doing something…and Doug replied simply, “already blew my money shopping yesterday”…Doug’s buddy replied, “On what?”. And Doug said “a couple shirts and a few pair of shoes”….Doug’s closet was filled with 400.00 dollar shirts, exotic suits, gadgets and the like. His kids received only the best and if his friend needed a T.V…he bought it for him. He lived and did more every year of his life than most people experience in a lifetime. He understood the value of material things, realized you couldn’t take it with you and he made the most of every day and spent his time and money enjoying every second of life with those he loved.

The following was written by Doug’s former team sergeant for Doug’s memorial service with his parent unit in Germany: It says much about what his brothers in arms thought about Doug:

Although we were not there with Doug on that fateful day; there is no doubt in my mind that Doug gave the Taliban a scrapping that they will never forget. From having done combatives with Doug to deployments in the little known town of Wadi al Harif, comfortably situated in the
middle of JRTC, to the streets of towns called Hit, Haditha, Haqlinia, and Bahgdad, Doug was a true assaulter to be reckoned with; he was courageous; he was fearless; and he was one of the men that a Team Sergeant would select for school assignment, because he NEVER failed. When Doug first arrived to Germany I found out that Doug was a former 11th ACR Boeseloger team member, as a 19D Cavalry Scout. The competition entailed 9 months of intense training and a one week long Scouting Competition against 27 teams from 9 different countries within NATO. When Doug first arrived to 1/10th and joined the men of ODA-014,
he was quick to set the bar for physical standards extremely high by finishing first in a 40km cross-country navigation and endurance event that the team conducted; his skills as an informal leader within the detachment also proved valuable on numerous occasions. During OIF III these leadership skills were used to train and lead an Iraqi Strike Platoon which conducted countless Direct Action missions in Baghdad. Doug's ability to not only train but lead his Iraqi Platoon during combat operations won him the admiration and respect of the Iraqis. Towards the end of operations Doug was selected to deploy to the "Green Zone" to instruct Conventional Army Commanders in the implementation of Foreign Internal Defense; this mission as so many other was viewed with the highest of accolades.

He was a gifted SOF planner that one could use as a good sounding board for various SOF missions; he was your best and worst critic all rolled in to one. And, I always knew I had a solid Course of Action when I had Doug's buy-in.

Having served with Doug, my fondest memory of him was watching the way in which he conducted actions on the objective. To say that he was "Poetry in Motion" would be an understatement; the man could flow through an objective in such a way that left you amazed at his thoroughness and attention to detail. At the end of the day, when you turned to him to get the verbal that his sector or the objective itself was secure, there was no doubt in your mind that in fact it was secured.

As we speak Doug is watching over us in his best European dress (normally a pair of Euro jeans and his red and white Puma Euro shoes or whatever you called them) drinking a glass of fine red wine and listening to some form of music which most people our age, engrossed in American culture, have never heard of. But that was what made Doug so extremely unique; his uncanny ability to embrace the Western European culture and speak the local dialect.

Thank you so much for your kind words Dave.

It was my distinct honor and the pinnacle of my career to finally work together with my brother in Combat. We worked in the same area in the Balkans for a brief period but had never made it on the same mission. During one of my tours in Iraq, our paths finally crossed. By that time we had both been working in the SOF world for some time and I had just transitioned to working with indigenous forces for the battle for Fallujah in 2004. In no time were able to share intelligence, indigenous assets and take the fight to the enemy as brothers in the same community. Having his team attached to My Marine Expeditionary force for several months, for me, it was a dream come true to be part of my brother’s legacy and give his team assistance through our sector in the far west and then hand off assets to help his team in Baghdad. Eventually, one of my closest allies from the Iraqi Special Forces actually met Doug and led him through navigating to a target house in Baghad. Thank you Haider. I sincerely pray God leads us to some left over targets from Doug’s fight in Afghanistan.

Doug’s friends and team members thought the world of him and any one of them would have been honored to fight to the death for him. Those present today from Germany are a testament to who Doug was and what it means to be a Green Beret. The support given to Doug’s entire family has been unprecedented and we sincerely thank you all. We have already made friends in the past week that I know I will have for the rest of my life. After escorting Doug from his arrival in Delaware to the air field in Camp Pendleton, I was met at the air craft door by some of Doug’s closest friends and former team members. They displayed the utmost in respect and ensured that all honors were bestowed on my brother in the most dignified fashion. Despite his cremation, they ensured every detail was accurate on Doug’s uniform and when learning of his awarding of the bronze star bestowed the honor to me of providing my Marine combat V device from the battle for Fallujah to be placed on his final Army uniform. They were Doug’s family and now they are ours. I wouldn’t be surprised if his bronze star with combat V for bravery and heroism in this action is eventually upgraded to a higher award for his final actions in Afghanistan. I wouldn’t be surprised for a moment to learn that Doug may have refused initial care or not alerted his medic when shot in order to provide fire power and save his team mates. That’s who Doug was.

We will anguish and mourn the loss of Doug beyond the expression of words. All I can offer during the anger and severe frustration that has and will continue to come;…. during the times when your asking Why God, WHY!.... is this. Doug did it right and he died SO, SO honorably! For those in our society that “support the troops, but don’t support the war”, and don’t believe our men are dying for anything…I assure you the threat is real and present and you will be so confirmed in your convictions that we are fighting for nothing right up to the point that this conflict hits our doorstep in another 9/11. We have the luxury of security due to a holistic approach for our national security from thousands of soldiers fighting this war abroad and those working in the agencies and organizations on the home front through inter-agency coordination that have been successful in stopping several attempts to conduct additional terrorist attacks on our own shores.

They are the last line of defense while we are out actively finding them on their shores and killing them where they breed. This is a war of idealism being conducted by so many that want to see death and destruction brought upon our shores and detest our freedom, our way of life and what our country stands for. Doug died in the process of killing those people so our country wouldn’t have to deal with them at home. He died honorably. So many poor unfortunate souls have died in the combat zone from non combat related deaths - helicopter crashes, drowning, fire, vehicle accidents or were blown up from a road side bomb and they never even knew they were hit. Doug was a soldier and led a life in the utmost dangerous of professions, constantly deployed in harms way, a member of an elite force that takes regular casualties and death from combat and training accidents. Doug was a warrior, a soldier at the pinnacle of the elite living a life he was so proud and ecstatic to be a part of. He was fortunate to secure his place in history as a legacy and will be revered a legend. He went out in a blaze of glory! He went down fighting and he put a lick on the enemy they won’t soon forget! He died serving others, doing an honorable job and securing our freedom. He died a hero, doing a hero’s work. We are so proud of you brother! Continue de oppresso liber, Semper Fidelis!

FROM NICOLE

Nicole’s Message:

It is very difficult for me to find the right words.
From the first time I saw Doug when he came to the hairdresser’s shop and let me cut his hair, I had a nice feeling. I was always very excited after that and had had butterflies in my belly every time he came. I couldn’t believe it when he finally asked me out after two years.

After that I had the most beautiful time in my life. I was allowed to see so many nice things which where totally new for me. The military ball 2005, Vacation in Sicily, the birth of our wonderful children and so much more.

For this reason it is so difficult for me to realize that he won’t come back home to us.
My heart is so full of anguish that it feels like breaking every moment.
Doug was the love of my life and he was such a good father for our children. He always was thinking first of us or others before he was thinking of himself.
Such a precious gift you have only once in your life and I am very grateful that I had such a present my last 4 years for myself.

ObituaryChief Warrant Officer 2 Douglas M. Vose III, U.S Army, 38, of Concrete, Washington, succumbed to wounds suffered on July 29, 2009, in Kabul Province, Afghanistan, during an intense fire fight with Taliban fighters.

Vose is being awarded the purple heart and his third Bronze Star posthumously with combat V insignia for heroism and valor during the engagement. Vose was accredited for saving the lives of several of his team members through his heroic actions. Several targeted high level Taliban leaders along with approximately an additional 15 Taliban fighters were killed in the engagement which resulted in a stiff blow to insurgent forces.

Chief Warrant Officer Vose was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 10th Special Forces Group, based out of Stuttgart, Germany.

He is survived by his wife, Nicole; daughters, Sharon and Noel; sons, Aidan and Connor; his mother, Paulette Vose; sister, Kellie Fernandez; and brother, Jason Vose.

He was preceded in death by his father, Douglas M. Vose, Jr.

A memorial service, with full military honors, will be held Monday, August 10th, at 6:00 PM at Concrete High School under the direction of Pastor Rob Thomas of the Community Bible Church of Concrete.

In lieu of flowers you may send contributions to: Chief Warrant Officer 2 Douglas M Vose, III 10th Special Forces Group Memorial Fund, Navy Federal Credit Union.